At 36:00, the bells of the Ruins Realm echoed, and everyone left the Ruins Realm.
Before the bells rang, the military had pushed their efficiency to its limit, cleaning up the battlefield and hastily withdrawing with the demon corpses.
"History has been inscribed. Records archived."
As the mist dispersed, two mysterious figures in gray cloaks appeared out of thin air in a deep, neglected alley in the dead of night.
Droplets pattered down the damp walls. The swirling wind carried moisture as it drifted beyond the alley, toward the blurry neon lights of the buildings outside.
The cloaked figure holding a pen in both hands turned to the one beside him, who carried a heavy book. His androgynous voice was respectful yet utterly flat. "The incident is over. According to the agreement, we should withdraw immediately."
"Is it really over—?"
A voice suddenly rang out, clear and crisp, like a frigid spring of ice melting, carrying a trace of doubt.
The "Book Bearer" raised her head slightly, revealing glimpses of silver-white hair beneath her hood. "I think you should go back and archive this first."
"And what about you?" the "Pen Bearer" asked in return.
"I—am curious about something."
The Book Bearer's cool voice drifted through the depths of the alley.
Compared to the Pen Bearer's black cloak, which bore only simple silver-thread embroidery along its edges, the Book Bearer's cloak was clearly far more intricate. Fine silver-thread patterns lay across it like constellations, vast and profound, occasionally flowing with a faint gleam in the darkness as though answering the stars in the sky from afar.
"What?" The Pen Bearer remained where he stood, tilting his head slightly without making a sound, seemingly unable to understand what she meant.
"In the Reflection Ruins Realm, I smelled the scent of the